LOVE SARAH (12A)
COMBINE two cups of human drama with one cup of gently simmered romance, stirring in a generous splash of tragedy until the mixture thickens to a gooey consistency.
Half-bake on a medium heat until beleaguered characters rise nicely and serve with a generous dollop of sweetened wish fulfilment.
Love Sarah is a heartfelt drama about grief and female empowerment, made to a well-thumbed recipe in scriptwriter Jake Brunger’s cookbook.
Ottolenghi-trained chef Sarah Curachi (Great British Bake Off champion Candice Brown) and best friend Isabella (Shelley Conn) are poised to open their first bakery in London’s Notting Hill.
Alas, Sarah is killed in a cycling accident en route to collecting the keys for the shop and a heartbroken Isabella discovers she cannot legally terminate the commercial lease on the bakery.
Sarah’s daughter, 19-year-old aspiring dancer Clarissa (Shannon Tarbet), turns her back on ballet to realise her mother’s dream with financial backing from her estranged grandmother, one-time circus star Mimi (Celia Imrie).
“You can definitely see its potential,” coos Clarissa as she invites Mimi into the gloomy, unfurnished premises.
“What, as a crack den?” tersely replies the grandmother.
United in grief, the women pool resources to transform the empty shell into a warm and inviting eaterie, serving mouthwatering confections created by Sarah’s Michelin-starred ex-boyfriend Mathew (Rupert Penry-Jones).
Loyalties are tested as the new business, named Love Sarah, competes against nearby bakeries for custom and Mimi takes temporary leave from the till to fan flames of romance with eccentric inventor Felix (Bill Paterson).
Love Sarah paints a dreamy vision of fledgling entrepreneurship, far removed from the harsh reality of the modern high street.
We eagerly devour lingering close-ups of mouthwatering bakes from around the world but a sub-plot involving Mathew’s past is more difficult to digest.
The stakes for the business seldom appear high and in the absence of palpable jeopardy or failure, one slice of this rose-tinted, post-Brexit life is plenty.